


Submersion

by DittyWrites



Series: Gotham Rogues Drabbles [27]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Fear, Gen, Introspection, One Shot, Slice of Life, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: Cheating death has lasting consequences and Edward is forced to confront one of them as he continues to live on borrowed time.
Series: Gotham Rogues Drabbles [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/296357
Kudos: 6





	Submersion

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet. Ish. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated xx

As his hands curled around the porcelain of the bathtub, Edward took a steady inhale as he prepared himself for the task ahead.

Small mounds of pristine white bubbles coated the water and Edward had almost convinced himself that they were simply there for the aesthetic and not the actions of an uneasy man trying to make himself feel better with childish pleasures.

Stepping into the tub and slipping his body down until he was partially submerged, the heat of the water was intense and it stole the breath from his lungs as it burned his skin.

Heat.

The water had to be as hot as humanly possible or as frigid as winter itself and he was not masochistic enough to force himself to endure an artic bath.

It could not simply be warm. Warm was a surefire way to raise those memories that he would rather forget.

Memories that he could never forget.

He should be thankful for his experiences with the Lazarus Pit. It had given him life when all other options had been extinguished and it had even had the added benefit of curing him of other minor ailments such as the mild arthritis which had begun to develop in his wrists and was affecting his engineering work.

It truly was a miracle in every sense of the word but with it came a price which a lessor man may have been unable to pay.

He has always been pale- his work both before and after his break into criminality had never required any outdoor labour of him- but he had noticed a very distinct change since the pit. His skin now held a pallor which was unchanging, even after spending hours in direct sunlight. Outwith cosmetic means, his skin simply could not be altered. No burning and no darkening. Even further testing with a tanning bed had also proven to have no affect as his skin retained an almost unhealthy lack of colouring.

It was an unexpected side-effect but Edward could see the poetic justice in cheating death only to be cursed to resemble her as he continued with his stolen life.

Also unexpected but far more cumbersome, was his residual unease around water.

He remembered very little from his dip within the pit itself but the sensation of being swallowed by the murky waters as they claimed him and pulled his down into the depths clung to him like tiny droplets. The sheer panic as the water filled his lungs and his body fought to rise and grab just a mouthful of air, but was prevented from doing so my the mystical properties of the water, was the strongest recollection he possessed and one which made his jaw twitch in agitation.

A memory of drowning, echoed by a memory of the voices.

Whether they existed within the water or within his own mind, he would never know, but the whispering as each voice layered atop the others and filled his mind with truths which were now lost to him continued to haunt him in his quietest moments even to this day. In those last moments of consciousness before sleep, when his mind was finally quietened enough to allow such a thing, they would return to taunt him about the lost knowledge that he would never retrieve.

The knowledge that pulled him from sleep most nights as a sweat-drenched mess with its secrets ready to burst from the tip of his tongue but never able to as they faded almost as quickly as they appeared.

Maddening.

Though not as maddening as the haze of memories which made up the months following his revitalisation.

He vaguely recalled the pit and he recalled awakening from his coma surrounded by medical equipment, but everything between was fuzzy to the point where it seemed intentionally so. He didn't even know how he ended up in the coma and that lack of understanding clawed at him like a beast, unbidden in his mind.

Even his time under the thrall of that bitch Ivy was clear in his memory; all her chemicals and pheromones did was make things a little rosy around the edge. But something told him that a key part of something important had been taken from him by his lost memory and the pit was somehow responsible for that.

Focusing his attention back on his body as he refused to allow himself to be lost in thoughts, Edward noted the trembling of his fingers as they carved divots into his forearms. He was also surprised to find that he had raised his knees at some point and his arms were looped around them; seeking a childish comfort that would never come.

He could image how woeful he looked to any outside eye. A grown man cowering in a bathtub, terrified of the water surrounding him as it lay there with an unassuming innocence.

Pathetic.

Edward Nygma did not indulge in self-pity. It was a waste of emotional energy that could be funnelled into more useful ventures but he did feel the beginnings of a mourning loss when it came to his lack of confidence around water.

He had loved swimming as a boy, often finding it a cheap escape from home that served as excellent exercise both physically and mentally as it allowed him to focus on his movement. Now it was simply another thing which he had been robbed of as he unfairly escaped his certain demise.

The urge to jump free of the water was strong but he steeled his mind against his bodies wishes and remained seated within the bathtub until the water was cool around him and the bubbles had long since dispersed.

Unclenching his limbs, he found each afflicted with a dull ache due to being held tense for so long and he took a moment to relax them as he stood to his full height. Drops of water escaped from his exposed body and bounced across the tiling of the floor as he reached for the nearby towel he had laid out for himself earlier.

He met a gaze in the bathroom mirror and it took him a moment to recognise himself but when he did he split his lips into an encouraging smile which only served to make him look tired and haggard.

He had heard the stories, of course, of how the great Ras Al Ghul had been using the Lazarus Pit for centuries to remain alive but as he took in his own appearance- from his shaking limbs to the sadness in his gaze- he was struck with the absolute clarity on why doing so had driven the man insane.

If the price of life was the death of sanity then Edward doubted he would ever chance his luck in such a way again.


End file.
